Glade High
by Effervescent Dreaming
Summary: Thomas, the new kid at Glade High (an all boy high school), is just trying to fit in. Meanwhile, Minho is trying to figure out what's up with his love life, girls Brenda and Teresa are trying to hide in a raging sea of boys, Alby and Newt are trying to keep themselves from making out with each other, and Chuck...has no idea what's going on. High school AU.
1. Welcome to the Glade

**Glade High**

_**Chapter One**_

Thomas Jones crossed his arms and let out an annoyed breath, settling farther back into the seat of the car. The old, worn van smelled like a weird mix of young kids and vanilla air fresheners, a scent that Thomas was annoyingly familiar with.

"Are we almost there?" he complained, shooting his adoption agent Mrs. Carson a dirty look. "We've been in this car forever!"

Mrs. Carson, with her obviously dyed red hair, looked into the mirror and narrowed her eyes at him. "We'll be there in a few minutes. You could be a bit more grateful that you earned a spot in this school."

"This school?" Thomas snorted in disbelief. "This is a school for guys who couldn't get adopted because they weren't good enough. Trust me, I could get into a lot better schools!"

"Of course you could," Mrs. Carson muttered, her obnoxiously red finger nails tapping on the steering wheel. "Just shut up and wait for the drive to be over, Thomas."

Promptly turning away from her and shuffling his crossed arms, Thomas glared out the window at the town they were passing through. It was rather small with old-fashioned looking buildings, a lot of small churches, and a very sparse collection of stores. He hadn't bothered to ask for the name of the town, but he knew that it was somewhere in northern New Hampshire.

As the old van crawled along the dirt road and kicked up dust onto the outside of the car, Thomas let himself start to think about what his new school might be like. Sure, Thomas tried to play off the whole fearless vibe that most foster kids did, but in all honesty he was a bit worried.

The kids at this new school would be all guys. Guys who were probably bigger than him. And stronger than him. And they had been there longer. Why wouldn't they have gotten adopted? In Thomas's case it was because he had run away from every foster home since he was six, but that was only because the people who adopted him all sucked. What had these guys done to wind up in the school for rejects?

Thomas stared blankly at his bags on the seat next to him and tried to imagine what his first few days would be like. Probably slightly hellish. Yeah, probably. Odds are no one would want to hang out with him, he was such a loser. That's what the kids in all of his foster homes had said. Same with the parents, though Mrs. Carson never believed him when he showed up at her door with tales of abusive people.

The system didn't care about him. Why would these guys? Why would the teachers?

Mrs. Carson pulled a sudden sharp right that jerked him out of his thoughts and slammed him against the door with a thud.

"Ow," he snapped at his less-than-enthusiastic driver.

She didn't reply, simply nodding her head forward towards the road in front of them.

Thomas peered out of the window and saw that they were driving up a secluded paved road way (no more dirt roads!) with stone walls lining it. Trees loomed over the driveway, gleaming in the spring sunlight. Feeling unsettled at how pleasant it actually looked so far, he tried to see farther up the road.

They pulled up to a building that looked less like a school and more like a massive house. A massive, _massive_ house. It was at least seven times bigger than any house Thomas had ever lived in with huge rock columns and stone steps. In front of the house was a pristine green lawn and around the side he could see sprawling tree-less hills with a wooden fence. There appeared to be a make-shift track as well.

On either side of the circular driveway, which had a broken fountain in the center, were two buildings that were much smaller. Both were white with blue doors and shutters and a simple porch each. One said "Information/Office" on the sign and the other said "Nurse" on it.

Thomas blinked.

This place was huge. The house looked like a...a...

Oh.

It looked like a boarding school-house, like those ones in the movie. He grinned sheepishly to himself. What had he been expecting really? A regular old high school? Naturally, an all boys boarding school_ would_ look like this.

"Grab your stuff!" Mrs. Carson trilled, parking the car at a slant in front of the house. "We have to meet the principle!"

Thomas quickly grabbed his duffel bag, the one that contained his measly collection of clothing and an old iPod and headphones, and jumped out of the car. It was nice and warm outside with a light breeze that tugged at his sweatshirt slightly.

As he looked past the driveway out to the open field behind the buildings, he heard the door of the main house shut.

"Ms. Paige!" Mrs. Carson exclaimed unhappily from the front of the building.

Thomas turned around and looked at his agent, only to see her awkwardly shaking hands with an uptight looking woman with black hair in a tight bun. "Mrs. Carson," the woman greeted stiffly. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you again too," Mrs. Carson said through a bland smile.

"I suppose you're here to drop off Thomas Jones?" Ms. Paige asked her, looking over at Thomas.

"Yes. Thomas! Come here!" called Mrs. Carson, as though beckoning a dog.

Thomas rolled his eyes to himself, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked up to the two woman. "Hello, Ms. Paige. I'm Thomas."

Ms. Paige simply nodded, observing him. "Nice to meet you Thomas, I'm your principle."

"Principle!" Thomas exclaimed before he would help himself. At Mrs. Carson's sharp glare, he coughed and said, "Nice to meet you."

Taking Thomas by surprise, she smiled kindly and replied, "Yes, principle. Would you like to come in? We have a lot to discuss about your future here at the school."

Obviously not having much of a choice he told her, "Sure."

Ms. Paige looked at him curiously as they stood there for a moment. "Would you like to say good-bye to Mrs. Carson? This could be the very last time you see her again."

Thomas turned his gaze to his agent, grinned sarcastically and said, "Bye. Good riddance, hopefully I can live without you breathing down my neck anymore."

As Mrs. Carson let out a stifled exclamation of shock and stomped over to the car, Thomas expected Ms. Paige to yell at him for being rude. Much to his glee she simply said, "I think that was the nicest farewell I've ever heard one of our new students give."

They walked into the building where there was a large living room type room. Three hallways led out into different parts of the house and a massive staircase led to an upstairs area. Thomas could see the balcony overhead and was nearly certain he saw someone duck around the corner when he looked up.

Ms. Paige swept her arms open and smiled at him, pulling his thoughts away from the balcony. "Welcome to Glade High!"

"This is the school!?" Thomas exclaimed. "But it's so much like a house!"

"It used to be an old mansion for a famous movie star, but they moved out ages ago. We fixed this place up into a working school for foster boys of ages ranging from eleven to eighteen. We allow you to live here until you're an adult at which time you leave to join the real world."

Thomas was impressed, but he didn't say so. "How do classes work?"

Ms. Paige led him to one of the many couches and motioned for him to sit down as she explained.

"Classes take place in ten of the rooms here. Some even take place outside. You will have classes with boys from all grades because we cover a new curriculum nearly every year. Anything you're unfamiliar with you get caught up on, and anything you already know you can use to your advantage. We have a track team, a soccer team, and a baseball team, as well as a music and art program."

Slightly overwhelmed Thomas asked, "Who will I be rooming with?"

She took a list out of her skirt pocket and read from it, "Chuck Cooper, Brendan Rivers, and Terry Agnes. Chuck's twelve years old, Brendan is seventeen, and Terry is sixteen."

_Damn, one's just a kid, _Thomas thought. "How many students go here?"

"Sixty two, as of today," she replied with a smile. "It's a small school. We wish we were allowed to take in so many other students but we simply cannot afford it. Our teachers are paid very little so it's hard for us to keep bringing kids in."

Thomas nodded and looked around the room, focusing on the stone fireplace and deer heads that lined the walls. Everything was very warm and nice in the room and against his will, he found himself glad to be there.

Ms. Paige noticed his looking and once again smiled, though it was slightly sad-looking. "Much nicer than those foster homes, isn't it?"

Startled, he looked up. "Those things suck. End of story."

She shook her head. "It never is the end of the story though, is it?"

Before he could ask what she meant, she kept going. "Anyway, you'll be shown around by one of the other students today. Don't be afraid to ask questions - all of these boys have been in the same position as you. They understand."

He nodded silently. "Do you think..." he began to ask, and then cut himself off. "Nevermind."

Looking concerned, Ms. Paige raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry. "If you're ready now, we can go find Alby Donahue. He'll be the one to show you around."

Thomas just nodded again and stood up. "That'd be great."

And so began his first day at Glade High.

**Yes, I know the title is lame but whatever. XD This is going to be an AU where the guys are in this all boy boarding school in upstate New Hampshire. Of course... drama will always occur where hormones are the rulers. XD You'll all see what I mean eventually.**

**~Dani ;)**


	2. Meeting the Shuck Heads

**Glade High**

_**Chapter Two**_

Thomas stood outside of the large mahogany door, shifting from foot to foot as he waited. Ms. Paige had left him there after saying, "Just knock and then tell him Ms. Paige asks for him to show you around!".

So now, after at least ten minutes of waiting and multiple times pounding on it, the door finally opened.

In front of him stood a tall, rather muscular, African-American guy a little older looking than Thomas with a pissed look on his face. "What do you want, shuck face - " he began to snap before his eyes landed on Thomas.

Alby (_is that what she had said his name was?) _smiled in a way that made Thomas want to slap him and turned his face back into the room. "Hey, Newt! We got ourselves the Greenie here!"

Not knowing what that was, Thomas immediately expected the worst and growled, "Excuse me?"

Before he got a response, another tall guy (though he was thinner and lankier than Alby) with shoulder length blonde hair appeared in the door way, eyebrows raised. "Don't scare the guy, Alby," he said to his room-mate, an Irish accent lining his words. His left leg seemed to be held awkwardly, like he had a limp.

"I'm right here you know!" Thomas groaned loudly, trying to direct their attention to him. "If you guys are done ignoring me, Ms. Paige told me that you're supposed to be showing me around."

The two guys looked at him in surprise. Then Alby drawled, "Aww, Ms. Paige! I hate when she does this - I thought that Minho was gonna be showing him around this time."

"Get over it, shuck head," Newt sang, stepping out into the hallway and facing Thomas. "Yeah, we'll show ya around. What's your name, Greenie?"

"Thomas," he replied, shrugging his duffel bag over his shoulder again. "Who are you?"

Alby shoved his way into the conversation with a smirk as he said, "Newton Lawrence!"

Newt punched Alby on the shoulder and glared at his room-mate. "My name is Newt, and if you ever call me Newton, I will sic Griever on you!" He then looked at Thomas and whispered, "At least my name isn't Albert!"

Alby attempted to pull Newt into a head lock, but was avoided by his friend who ducked out-of-the-way.

"Who's Griever?" Thomas asked in confusion, though he was slightly amused about the whole name thing.

"Principle Janson's freaky dog," Alby replied as he batted Newt's arm away from his shoulder. The blonde haired guy was trying to use Alby as an arm rest. "It's demonic and hates all of us."

"Ugly slinthead, too," Newt added with a dramatic shudder. "It's this awful looking boxer dog with huge teeth that helps guard the school at night."

Thomas grimaced at the thought of a psychotic dog on school grounds. Then, he thought of something. "Wait, isn't Ms. Paige the principle?"

Alby rolled his eyes while Newt replied, "Janson's the vice principal and he's a complete and utter pedophile."

"Uh... that's nice?" Thomas offered, not quite sure how to respond to something like that.

"Alby'll show you around now," Newt told him, pushing his friend forward and then trying to drop back into the room. "I'll just be in here - "

"Oh no," Alby growled, grabbing Newt by the edge of his long-sleeved shirt. "You're coming with us. I will not be forced to introduce him to everyone by myself."

Newt yelped and snatched his arm away, pulling it close to him. He then seemed to realize what he'd done and blushed sheepishly. "Uh, whatever then, shuck head. Let's go show this Greenie around."

Thomas watched the whole exchange curiously, wondering just why Newt had that reaction to Alby grabbing his arm. Weird.

"So why are you guys here?" he asked as they walked down the hall. "I mean, everyone here never got adopted but...what's your stories?"

Alby grinned. "I terrorized all of my foster parents. They all adopted me for the state money, so in turn, I caused them hell. No one ever wanted to adopted me so I was sent here two and a half years ago. Thought I was smart enough to keep up with the school."

Thomas laughed. "I just ran away every time they were rude to me. I think I had nine different homes last year between being balanced between them all."

"Nice one!" Alby said with a laugh, giving him a high-five.

"What about you, Newt?"

The guy in questioned looked up as though startled and replied with a vague, "Oh, you know, normal problems. Too old to be adopted, that kinda stuff."

Alby stared at Newt as he said this, making Thomas think that there was more to that story, but he didn't pry. Making a sound of consent as the walked traipsed down the different dorm rooms, he asked, "What are you gonna show me?"

"We'll skip the meet and greet til lunch time, but now we'll just show you around the classrooms and outside and stuff," Alby told him, taking a left down a new wide corridor.

"Down here is the science room," Newt explained, nodding his head to a large room with tables and chairs all over. There was a large white board hung on the wall and a bunch of filing cabinets along the walls.

The math room that they showed him was basically the same.

"Interesting classrooms," Thomas mused. "They're very..."

"Unconventional?" Newt supplied with a shrug. "Agreed. You get used to it though. We have class outside a lot too."

"That's kinda neat."

"Yep."

Alby snorted in amusement. "You two are so eloquent with your words."

Newt grinned. "Shut up, Alby."

"Oh please, if you stopped hearing my wonderful voice you'd go crazy," Alby teased.

Thomas laughed. "Sure he would."

The next hallways he was led down all had similar rooms with the occasional bathroom or dorm room, but they stayed clear of the student rooms. Unintentionally, they ran into a few different guys, but they just waved and kept walking, wanting to wait until lunch to properly introduce Thomas to the whole school.

When the finished the top floor, which was just as huge as it looked from the outside with massively tall walls and expensive wooden floors, they took the stairs down to the first floor.

The first floor was made up of three separate living rooms, a very modern looking kitchen, two dining rooms with two tables each, three bathrooms, and two studies, plus a library.

"Damn... this place is huge," Thomas muttered to himself as Alby and Newt finished showing him the second dining room. "Don't you guys ever get lost?"

"You new Greenies get lost all the time," Alby assured him with a sarcastic grin. "But you actually get really used to it all. It isn't that hard to find your way around after a few days of living here."

Thomas nodded and peered out one of the windows that showed a beautiful spring day. "How old are you guys, by the way?"

"I'm sixteen," Newt replied off-handedly while limping over to one of the dining room chairs to sit down. "God, I'm tired. I can't believe Coach Jorge worked us that hard yesterday. I'm literally in pain right now."

"Stop your whining," Alby retorted good-naturedly. "And I'm seventeen. What about you?"

"Sixteen," Thomas told them, sitting down next to Newt. "So whataya guys do around here?"

"Play sports, listen to music, read, play in our band, be idiots, prank people, terrorize Janson, sneak into town, stuff like that." Newt ticked off the list on his hand, grinning. "We do a bunch of stuff here. It's not like we're regular boring boarding school kids."

"Oh, and the drama that goes on here is entertainment enough," Alby cackled.

"Really?" Thomas wouldn't have thought that an all guys school would be filled with drama. "Like what?"

"Minho," the two chorused at exactly the same time, in exactly the same tone. They both cracked up as Thomas watched, utterly confused.

"Our roommate," Newt explained.

"Flaming homosexual," Alby added with a laugh.

"Flaming _bi_sexual," Newt corrected sharply, though he was laughing too.

"Drama queen."

"Sass master."

"King of the Pranks. Well, right after me that is."

By this point, the two friends were gasping for breath while they laughed. Thomas was completely lost, though laughing as well as Alby literally fell out of his seat.

"Sounds like... an interesting dude," Thomas concluded through his laughter. "He's your room-mate?"

"Oh yeah, you'll meet the slinthead eventually," Newt laughed, running a hand through his hair as Alby used his chair to try to pull himself up. "We'll introduce you at lunch. Let's go show you where we hold gym class here."

**~WICKED~**

Teresa Agnes sighed as she collapsed into her bed in her dorm room, completely and utterly drained. God, it was hard pretending to be a boy. Especially at an all guys high school.

As she laid there, she ran her fingers over her hair, which had been cut short. It was spiky and bristly, as opposed to the soft feminine style it had been before. Sure, Teresa had never been a girly girl, but her black hair had been long and wavy before she had managed to get into the school.

She still didn't understand why she had to be insane enough to go through with this. There were plenty of people who deserved it more! Of course, it was either fake being a guy or deal with an abusive foster dad, so her choice hadn't been too difficult.

So now she was _Terry _Agnes, a seventeen year old boy at Glade Highschool. It was quite the trick pretending to be a boy, since she quite obviously _wasn't_ when she didn't try. There was a constant wrap around her middle which - _cough cough - _flattened her chest enough so that it wasn't awkward.

And then there was the constant state of baggy hoodies and loose jeans she had come to know. She didn't mind the look, not really, but sometimes it made her sad to look in the mirror or into the eyes of her best friend and know that they would never know the real her.

"Terry?" a young voice called from the other room of their dorm. "Are you here?"

Teresa sighed but sat up from her bed and leveled her voice out to a slightly deeper tenor. "Yeah, Chuck, I'm here."

One of her roommates, a twelve-year-old named Chuck Cooper with curly brownish red hair, walked into the room. He wasn't chubby, per se, but he was obviously still a kid and wasn't as filled out or grown up as a lot of the other guys in the school. He had trusting blue eyes that made Teresa want to hug him constantly.

"Do you know where Brendan is?" he asked while standing in front of Teresa. "I've been looking for him, but I haven't been able to get ahold of him. He has my math notes!"

Smiling sympathetically, she shrugged. "No idea, Chuck. Sorry. I think I saw him out by the track arguing with Minho earlier."

"Of course," Chuck sighed. "Thanks anyways. So did you meet our new room-mate yet? I heard he got here today!"

"I haven't seen him!" Teresa exclaimed, fake disappointment in her voice. Sure, she wanted to meet the guy, but she really didn't need another room-mate to hide her identity from. Two was bad enough. "Maybe we'll see him at lunch?"

"Oh yeah!" Chuck smiled. "Speaking of which, should we start heading down? Doesn't it start soon?"

Throwing a look at the clock next to her bed, Teresa concluded that it was indeed ten to twelve. "Might as well head down. See if we can find Terry on the way."

Afer a nod of agreement from Chuck, they were out the door.

**~WICKED~**

Thomas was standing outside next to a row of silver bleaches that stood to a height just above his head. He, Alby, and Newt were outside in the track field, watching an argument go down between two guys on the track.

"God, that's Minho isn't it?" Newt sighed, shaking his head. "He's an idiot. Why would he get into a fight with Brendan?"

"Because he's an almighty shuck head," Alby explained with a laugh. "C'mon, guys, let's go watch the show."

Amused, Thomas followed as his two new friends walked up to the argument. The other guy was tan and kind of petite looking with short brown hair and a rather feminine face. His hands were waving as he shouted in a high voice, "You idiot, you think I want to talk to you now?"

"Why not?" the other guy, who Thomas couldn't see, yelled. "It wasn't my choice to break it off! I see no reason I can't still talk to you and be friends!"

"You never tell an ex you want to be friends, slint head!" yelled the shorter guy. "It's like your kidnapper telling you to keep in touch!"

"Ouch," Alby whispered with a grin on his face. "Newt, should we help them before Minho loses his head?"

"I suppose so," Newt sighed, though he was grinning. "Guess you'll be meeting Brendan and Minho now then, Thomas!"

Thomas nodded and laughed. "Do these two argue a lot?"

"All the time!" Alby assured him.

"It's kind of amusing," Newt said. "Now let's go save Minho."

"OI!" Newt shouted. "MINHO!"

The guy turned and Thomas felt his mouth drop open into a 'o' of surprise.

Okay... so this guy was kind of gorgeous. Not that it mattered. At all. Because Thomas was straight. Probably. Most likely. At least, most of the time.

Minho - with sharp brown eyes, dark brown hair that just _shined, _and a smirk on his face - looked at Newt and asked, "Whataya want, guys?"

Alby walked up to him and threw an arm around Minho, smiled back at Brendan, and replied, "We want to save your sorry ass before you do something you regret. Like, say something offensive and have Brendan slice your head off with his karate chop."

Brendan scoffed. "Damn straight; I could take at least three-fourths of you shuck heads _and_ Janson no problem."

Minho glared at Brendan but turned his smirky smile at Newt and Thomas. When he laid eyes on Thomas, he seemed to light up, slipping out of Alby's arm.

"So _you're _the Greenie?" he mused out loud as he prowled around Thomas.

Thomas glared at him and turned with him so that he was always in front of Minho. "Yeah, I am."

"Is that...attitude?" Minho laughed. "Oh please, Greenie, don't give _me_ attitude."

"Yeah!" Newt piped up. "Because Minho is the only one here allowed to have an attitude, obviously"

"Got that right!" Brendan snarled. "And his ego is so big it's hard to move when you stand in the same room as him."

"Rude," Minho coughed, turning his gaze back on Terry. "Why don't you go play with Terry, Brendan?"

Rolling his eyes, Brendan stalked back across the field, all while flipping Minho off.

"Rud_er_!" Alby yelled to him, laughing.

"What's with him?" Thomas questioned, feeling his cheeks heat up as Minho stepped closer.

The Asian boy whispered in his ear, "He's just sour about our break-up." Thomas felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up and he tried to fight off the blush on his face.

"Minho!" snapped Newt suddenly. "Stop flirting with the Greenie!"

"Yeah, shuck head," Alby sighed. "You have to stop freaking them out before they've even settled in."

"Sorry!" Minho sang, sounding not sorry at all.

There was a sudden tolling of a bell from across the school grounds. Startled, Thomas's head snapped up.

"LUNCH TIME!" the three students yelled at the same time, before taking off running across the field.

"Don't wait up, Greenie!" Newt shouted as they ran. "Or all the good food will be gone!"

Grinning, Thomas ran after them.

**And this is the second chapter! :D Please review; it fuels my authoress inspiration juices. XD All of the lovely ones I got were simply fabulous! I wanted to hug each and every one of you. :3 14 REVIEWS ARE YOU KIDDING ME GUYS!? FOURTEEN. REVIEWS. ON THE FIRST CHAPTER. *explodes***

**~Dani ;) **


	3. The Start of the Beginning

**Glade High**

_**Chapter Three**_

Thomas had never seen such an insane lunch.

Currently, there were kids running throughout the entire downstairs of the first floor, all laughing and talking and shoving and overall just being loud. Most were in groups of two or three as they talked with their friends. When Thomas looked up at the balcony above them he caught sight of a teenage guy with black hair dangling a red water balloon over a stern looking adult.

"Gally!" yelled the guy's friend as he ran up to him on the balcony. "Save that for later, will you?"

Thomas cracked a grin and kept walking with Minho, Newt, and Alby. The dining rooms were just as crowded and he walked in relatively unnoticed until an extremely small kid with blonde hair shouted, "Newbie!" and pointed a finger at him.

Immediately, it was like the place was paused. Every face turned to look at him, eyes wide, some with devious smirks on their faces.

"Hey?" Thomas waved awkwardly, arm jerking forward from nervousness. "I'm Thomas?"

"Oh!" came a shout from across the room.

Thomas peered around a group of people and down one of the tables. A young kid with curly brownish red hair was standing at the end with another guy who looked to be a little older.

The kid blushed as everyone's eyes turned on him and said, "I'm Chuck, one of your new room-mates."

Raising an eyebrow Thomas replied, "Nice to meet you, Chuck!"

"Okay, shanks, get out-of-the-way and let Thomas meet his new room-mates!" shouted Newt, waving his arms so the mass of people would shift out-of-the-way. "Long story short; this is Thomas, he's new, and if you mess with him you'll be forced to answer to me and Alby."

"And me!" Minho added with a smirk. "Just give the Greenie some breathing space."

The teenagers did just that as the chatter started back up again, but Thomas could feel their eyes on him as he waded through the crowd to get to Chuck. The kid was rather short with innocent blue eyes and curly hair.

"Guess I'm not the new kid anymore," he mused with a sly smile when Thomas approached him.

"Guess not," was all Thomas said in reply, instead choosing to sit down at the table next across from Chuck. "So you're one of my new room-mates?"

"Yep!" Chuck nodded and then put an arm around the boy sitting next to him. "And this is Terry! He's one of my best friends."

Terry, a black-haired boy with a small build, gave a forced smile to Thomas. "Yeah, we're pretty close. Nice to finally meet you, Thomas. We've heard a lot about you."

Thomas nodded at Terry and grinned. "Cool to meet'cha. Where's the other guy?"

"Right behind you," came a familiar voice from behind Thomas.

He whirled around and came face-to-face with the feminine looking guy who had been down on the track field. "Brendan, right?" he asked, giving him a smile. _I hope he's not as impossible to deal with as it seems._

Brendan nodded and sat down next to Thomas. "Yeah, that's me alright. Sorry about the misleading introduction down at the track field; Minho just pisses me off to no end."

Thomas looked across the room to where Minho was laughing loudly and obnoxiously with Alby and Newt. "I believe it. What did he do to piss you off so bad?"

"He broke up with me and then tried to keep hanging out with me," Brendan explained. "He's an idiot though and was a complete jerk during the relationship. Why would I ever want to talk to him again?"

Thomas nodded. "Good point."

"I still don't understand how you two were ever a couple," Terry snorted through a laugh, though he kept his face slightly shadowed by his hoodie. "You never got along."

Brendan shrugged. "Minho is actually a nice guy once you get to know him."

Chuck shuddered. "Anytime else he's a complete jerk though."

"So what's up with this school?" Thomas asked, looking around at the room full of students. "It's complete chaos here."

"A chaotic environment, when tuned correctly, can create the most organized mind," his new room-mates chorused at the same time.

"That's what Janson and the rest of the teachers always say," Terry explained. "I don't really see the logic, but if it keeps me out of the foster homes, I'm not complaining."

"Good that," Brendan agreed suddenly. "How's your first day at Glade High been, Thomas?"

Thomas shrugged and then smiled. "It's been hectic."

"That's how this school is all the time," Chuck laughed. "My first day was last month and I still haven't gotten used to everything."

"So you really are relatively new!"

"What did you expect?" Chuck asked. "Actually, the four of us are the Newbies of the school. We aren't all exactly the most popular."

"Speak for yourself," Terry exclaimed. "Brendan here definitely has his string of admirers."

"I wouldn't say that!" Brendan said in surprise. "It's really just you people."

"And Minho," Chuck added. "And Winston and Stan and Tim and - "

"Shut up!" Brendan snapped, a blush highlighting his cheeks. "Whatever!"

Thomas fought down a laugh. "My god, is everyone here gay?"

"Basically," Chuck laughed.

"Not true," snapped Brendan. "It's just Minho and Ben..."

"And Newt," Terry added. "And you."

"Newt is not!" Brendan seemed surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"Alby is why," Chuck said. "C'mon, even I'm not blind to it!"

"Yeah, they're always flirting with each other," Terry laughed.

"Really?!" Thomas asked. "I didn't even notice."

"You must be blind then." Chuck shook his head. "It's kind of funny. Anyway, while we've been gossiping like girls, Frypan has been making some sort of delicious lunch. Who wants to come find out what it is with me?"

Thomas stood up, relieved. Gossip wasn't his thing. "Let's go."

**~WICKED~**

The next day Newt shuffled through his closet, looking for his favorite Sleeping With Sirens t-shirt. Head stuck in halfway, it was beginning to get pretty hot.

"Alby!" he shouted. "Where's my Sirens shirt? I can't find it!"

His room-mate hollered at him from somewhere in the bedroom. "It's in the hamper, shuck head."

"Damn it," Newt cursed, pulling himself out of the stuffy closet. "Guess I'll have to wear this one then."

He snatched his short-sleeved My Chemical Romance t-shirt and walked over to the bathroom he shared with Minho and Alby, clicking the door shut with a soft _schlick. _His face stared back at him from the mirror, making him cringe.

Newt hated seeing himself. He hated his limp blonde hair and his weird nose and the way that his blue eyes were so light. He hated his pale skin and when he spoke, he hated the awful Irish accent his voice carried. Not to mention he was so thin, it was gross. When he tossed his pajama shirt on the ground, he could see most of his rib bones, and his shoulder blades stuck out. He just generally hated himself.

Tearing his eyes away from the awful thing in front of him he slipped the black shirt over his head, enjoying the cool air on his arms for a moment. And then his gaze trailed back down to his scar lined arms and that joy was gone, the cool air replaced by a thin red sweatshirt around his body.

God, he was so weak, he hated it. He had given into life and his scars were there to prove it. Newt didn't understand why Alby and Minho put up with him.

Of course, neither of his friends knew. He hadn't even told them why he had a limp.

"Yo, shank, you done in there?" came the teasing voice of his best friend. "I have to take a piss."

"Wow, be a bit more blunt will you?" Newt replied, though a smile graced his lips. "Yeah, I'll be out in a second."

The sixteen year old pushed open the door and bumped right into Alby on the way out, the shorter guy looking up at him with his signature sarcastic smile. His warm brown eyes seemed to shine. "Admiring yourself in the mirror, beauty queen?"

Though it wasn't meant to be mean, Newt winced inside, though all he said was, "Not at all; that's Minho's area of expertise."

Alby cracked a grin and shut the bathroom door behind him.

Sighing, Newt dragged himself across the room and collapsed onto his bed. God, he was exhausted. Coach Jorge had worked them like dogs during their last baseball practice and his arm was killing him. Since he couldn't run very well, the team used his throwing arm with stunning results.

But still, practice was taxing, especially when Newt hadn't been sleeping very well. There were just certain thoughts of certain people keeping him awake at night...

"Newt!"

Newt looked up and saw Minho standing in the doorway, a grin on his face. "Guess what just happened?"

"What?"

Looking about ready to burst with excitement Minho shouted, "Coach Jorge told me the track meets are starting up again tomorrow!"

"Really?" Newt exclaimed, eyebrows raised. "That's awesome!"

"I know!" Minho pumped his fist in the air and laughed. "I'm gonna kill it this year."

"Think anyone else is gonna join?"

"Probably not," Minho said as he walked over to the bed and sat down next to Newt. "Unless those Newbies can run, I highly doubt we'll have any new teammates this year."

Newt laughed. "Thomas looks like he could be fast."

Minho waved him off. "Please, that guy looks more like a football player. Broad shoulders and all that."

Making a noise of agreement Newt asked, "You don't like him, do you?"

"Not in the least," Minho muttered. "Messing with him is fun but he just seems full of himself."

"This coming from you?" Newt snorted.

"Slim it," Minho growled, though he was smiling. "I just don't like the vibe I get from him!"

"That's why you were flirting with him earlier," came Alby's disbelieving voice from the front of the room. "Because you don't like him."

"Please." Minho rolled his eyes. "I flirt with everyone."

"Yes you do, you man-whore," Alby said with a smirk.

"Man-whore? This coming from the all mighty bitch king," Minho snapped back.

"Girls, girls, now we're all pretty," Newt stepped in with a high-pitched voice before lowering it to his normal voice. "Get over yourselves and calm the bloody hell down."

Alby smiled and threw himself onto the bed next to Newt, wrapping his arms around the tall blonde's waist. "Whatever you say, Newt."

Minho smirked - his signature look - and laughed. "Gonna join the track team this year, Alby?"

"Maybe," Alby replied vaguely as he hugged Newt. "Basketball is more my thing."

Slightly uncomfortable at just _how_ comfortable the position they were in was, Newt pried Alby's arms away from him. His face was burning up and he coughed.

"Did you guys talk to Brendan at all today?" Minho asked conversationally, though Newt could hear the real question in his voice.

"Not really," Alby replied, completely oblivious to how curious his friend actually was. "I don't talk to him much, he's kind of annoying."

"Funny though," Minho muttered. "But he acts all high and mighty."

"If you didn't want to break up with him, why did you?" Newt asked quietly, his hidden relationship advisor coming out.

"I didn't," groaned Minho, rolling over on the bed so that he was staring at the ceiling sullenly. "Brendan did."

"Did you ask him why?" Newt questioned. "Maybe there was a good reason."

"There was," came as a sigh out of Minho's mouth. "But I still sort of miss him."

"C'mon you shank, you gotta man up! Get over Brendan and go find yourself someone new to date!" Alby chimed in, slapping Minho on the shoulder. "Talk to one of the town girls or guys next time we go out."

"Yeah, Minho," Newt agreed. "You sitting here in your pity party will do nothing, you shuck head. Get out and talk to people! Brendan isn't worth this."

"We're such girls," Minho huffed, crossing his arms and sitting up. "But I guess you do have a point, it's time to get over Brendan."

"Good that!" Newt stood up. "Now let's go do something before I die of boredom."

"Not so fast!" Alby piped up, grinning. "Did I ever tell you guys about the party going on next weekend?"

"Oh god..." Newt groaned good-naturedly as Minho leapt at the news.

**~WICKED~**

"Think fast!" Brendan yelled as he pelted a red pillow with a white maple leaf sewn into it at Terry.

Thomas peered into the bedroom, amused. This was only his second day living with this group of guys and this was the fourth time a spontaneous pillow war had broken out between the two.

Said target didn't bother to look up from the book he was reading, ducked out-of-the-way, and then shouted, "Think fast_er_!" before throwing a stuffed dog at Brendan.

Brendan reached up and caught the animal with the price of toppling back into a pile of blankets on the floor. "Score," he muttered quietly, making Thomas smile. "Next time, make the throw harder, Terry!"

"Well I'm sorry," Terry replied with a grin, setting his book down. His blue eyes twinkled. "It's not my fault I have arms like a girl."

"You so are a girl, Terry," teased Brendan.

"You're one to talk," snorted Thomas, making his presence known. "Brendan, have you seen your face?"

"Shut up, you ugly shank," Brendan growled, actually sounding relatively hurt.

Thomas winced. He hadn't meant to be mean about it. "God, sorry, Brendan. I didn't mean - "

"Thomas?" Terry interrupted. "Could you please excuse us? I have to talk to Brendan about something."

Miserable now, Thomas nodded and left the room. The guys shut the door behind him with a slam.

He walked through the little hall that separated their two rooms and then entered the bed room he shared with Chuck. Chuck, despite his young age, turned out to be very witty and sarcastic when he wanted to. He could keep up a good conversation and was already growing on Thomas, something that usually took time.

The kid was laying on his bed, scrawling notes out on a piece of paper that looked like science homework.

"Hey," Thomas greeted him before crossing over to his own side of the large room and beginning to unpack his stuff. He had been procrastinating since he had gotten in the night before and was now finally putting on an effort to get used to this school.

"Hey!" Chuck replied happily. "You are so lucky you missed the last science unit we did. I never wanted to learn about the formation of rocks and tectonic plates. It was literally work to stay awake in class."

Thomas grinned. "I'm just lucky that way!"

"Are you nervous about your first day of school tomorrow?" Chuck asked.

"Not nervous, just annoyed about waking up at six in the morning every day," Thomas groaned with a shrug. "How do you do it?"

Smirking (in a way that seemed unbelievably innocent to Thomas) Chuck returned, "I'm just awesome that way."

"Of course you are, kid." Thomas smiled and went back to unpacking his clothes.

**Right then. XD Thank you guys sooo much for all the kind reviews. Do you think we could aim for around ten this time? I'm just curious to see how many people are actually reading this... Of course, I'm not picky. XD I adore all of the kind words I've gotten. **

**One person asked me if Brendan is an OC and I can reassure you that he isn't, and his identity will be made clear-er next chapter. (Though, I would have thought it was slightly obvious). **

**So, do you guys have any requests? I have most of the pairings figured out but I'd love some ideas for things that could go on in the fic... field trips, drama, little events, quotes you want me to use... And if you have a question, just PM me! **

**Thanks to: **MuffinFactory, Absolutely Taylor, MazeRunnerGirl, Hi, Tolazytologin, No, Collie Parkillo, suddzero, I'mtoolazytobecreative, teamdauntlesstribute, **and a BUNCH of people named** Guest **for reviewing. BTW - I want to be able to write out everyone who reviews, so if you do while not logged in, come up with something different so you'll be recognized! **

**Sorry for the super long author's note - more drama to come later. :D**

**~Dani **


	4. Getting Settled

**Glade High**

_**Chapter Four**_

Brenda was certain that the scene in front of her was something out of a _Mean Girls_ movie. Minho and Thomas (Minho with his hands on his hips and Thomas with a stern glare) were staring down Gally and Ben, both of who were glaring back. A crowd was forming around the four boys who were arguing in front of the hallway to the science room.

"Go away, slut," snarled Gally, his black hair hanging in his eyes slightly. "All I want to do is introduce myself to the new Greenie."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you," Minho snapped back before Thomas could respond. "It's not like you're a very pleasant person anyway, slint head."

Ben scoffed. "I'm sure the Greenie can speak for himself." His dark eyes turned towards Thomas. Patronizingly he asked, "Or are you too stupid to defend yourself? Is that why the foster system had to send you here?"

As Thomas opened his mouth, most likely to make a biting comment back, Minho growled, "That was low, even for you. Making a crack about someone's time in the system."

"Please," Gally retorted in an obnoxious voice. "Not everyone's story is as woeful as yours is, you fag."

"Okay, THAT is enough!" a small voice shouted.

Everyone turned around, most annoyed, though Thomas was looking rather grateful at the distraction. Brenda peeked over the shoulder of Terry, who was in front of her, and looked at the guy who had spoken.

It was Chuck.

The kid was glaring at Gally and Ben, his blue eyes oozing annoyance. "Shut up and go to class, shuck heads." He then turned to Minho and Thomas. "And you two just go away; you know that they aren't worth your time."

For a moment, the group was silent, and then Gally laughed rudely. "Need the pipsqueak to save your asses?" he exclaimed, cackling.

Ben high fived his friend and Brenda watched while Thomas stepped forward, arm raised. Quick as lightning, he flung his hand out and back handed Gally. Voice murderous, Thomas muttered, "Get the fuck away, Gally."

So mad he was basically steaming with anger Gally stepped forward, mouth opened and yelled, "Who do you think you are, talking to me, Greenie!?"

"A hell of a lot awesomer than you," Minho cut in, nodding at Thomas with respect.

"I oughta - " Ben said in a strangled voice as someone tried to hold him back.

"HEY!" someone suddenly shouted. "What the hell is going on here?"

The crowd parted and Brenda grinned as Ms. Summers stepped into view, her hands on her hips. "It sounds like someone is fighting but I _know_ that can't be the case because I _know_ that my students aren't stupid enough to stir up trouble because I _know_ that I taught them better than that." Her green eyes held a warning as her glare swept the crowd, lingering on Gally, Ben, Thomas, and Minho. "Am I right?"

"Yes Ms. Summers," a few students mumbled half-heartedly.

"Good!" she exclaimed, clapping her paint-splattered hands and grinning suddenly. "Now get to class or Janson will have your asses, kids!"

Brenda snorted in amusement at her teacher's antics as Terry turned to look at her. "We just had to get stuck with another drama-prone guy, didn't we?" Terry asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Of course!" Brenda exclaimed in faux-happiness, lowering her voice like she tried to so she could stay masculine sounding. Something told her it never really worked. "At least he seems nice enough."

"Yeah," Terry replied, though he seemed distant while the two room-mates walked towards art class.

Brenda followed his line of sight and let out a groan. "_Please_ tell me you aren't crushing on Thomas."

"Of course not!" Terry exclaimed "What makes you think that?"

"You just keep looking at him," Brenda admitted, shoulder her bag that held her books in it. .

Terry narrowed his eyes and replied, "I look at you a lot. That doesn't mean anything."

Brenda felt her cheeks flush though she simply said, "Puh-lease, of course you have the hots for me. How could anyone resist this?" She motioned to her body which was clothed in loose jeans and a rather shapeless shirt. "I'm _such_ a catch."

Terry let out a giggle, sounding extremely feminine. "Sure I do, Brendan. Keep on telling yourself that."

The two friends entered their art class where their classmates (a group of about ten guys) were already busy sketching something in their notepads as Ms. Summers stared intently at a piece of paper in front of her.

"Hey Ms. Summers!" both Brenda and Terry chorused at the same time, taking their places near her desk.

"Hi boys," Ms. Summers said, not taking her eyes off the piece of paper. "Today is theme day. Draw me something pertaining to pirates that isn't unbearably cliché."

Unquestioningly, Brenda pulled out her notepad and began sketching out a female pirate. Ms. Summers had requested much stranger drawings and paintings before, so this was, in all actuality, a break from some of the weirdness.

"So what are you looking at?" Terry asked, looking up from his drawing. "You seem pretty intense."

Ms. Summers simply stood up with the paper in hand, not breaking eye contact with it, and held it in front of Terry and Brenda. "The last line, boys. I cannot figure out how to end this poem."

Brenda grinned. Ms. Summers was obsessed with writing, art, and music, and she tended to either be immersed in something from one of those three categories every time they saw her in class. "It's a nice poem," Brenda said honestly.

"Thanks, darling, but I need to finish it off," Ms. Summers muttered, glaring down at the piece of paper. "Ah, maybe some music will help."

Their unorthodox teacher straightened up and yelled to the class, "Music requests, anybody?"

Someone yelled out, "Party Rock Anthem!"

Within moments the song was blasting from the speakers and kids were singing along as they worked. Terry shifted closer to Brenda while they talked, so he could be heard.

"So what do you think about the Gally thing?" Terry asked, shading in a skull and crossbones flag.

"They're being idiots," Brenda said bluntly, shaping out a gun in the pirate's hand. "Gally doesn't deserve to talk to Thomas and that's that."

"I agree," Terry said, nodding. "What do you think about him, by the way? He seems nice enough, if not a little boring."

"He's kind of...rude." Brenda looked up at Terry briefly. "And he seems like the kind of person who isn't about to let anyone in."

Terry nodded, eyes wide. "Yes! He's going to be a tough nut to crack but I bet we can."

"We need something to break him out of his shell," Brenda mused, letting her mind wander.

Terry made a noise of agreement and went back to his drawing. "By the way, there is something I've meant to talk to you about."

He said it so offhandedly that Brenda immediately knew something was wrong. Terry never beat around the bush. "Eh, yes?" she offered worriedly.

Eyes trained on the pencil he was using, Terry said, "You've been acting kind of strange lately. Is anything wrong?"

Brenda gulped, slipping her gaze to Terry's face, though that didn't seem to give anything away. Lately trying to hide her identity had got so much worse, what with certain things going on...

"Everything's fine," she replied in a strangled voice. "Why do you ask?"

Terry shrugged, his hoodie slipping off his shoulder slightly. "You've just been off recently. I've meant to talk to you about something, but I can't now."

"Why?"

His cool blue eyes finally rose to meet Brenda's gaze. "It's personal."

They fell silent after that, both too scared to catch each other's worried stares.

**~WICKED~**

All Minho could hear was the scratching of lead pencils on paper as the class copied down notes. In front of him was a full-page of notes covered in small doodles and song lyrics. Yeah, so he was supposed to be copying down the math notes, but why?

Geometry was useless and a complete waste of time; it wasn't like he was going to use it in his future job. He practically had the track scholarship in his hands - all Jorge had to do was secure it. It wasn't like he thought school in general was a waste; he was a pretty good student; but math just rubbed him the wrong way.

Minho tapped his pencil against the notebook in a monotonous beat, eyes glazed over as his mind wandered to earlier in the morning.

Trust Gally and his little minion Ben to ruin his whole day. He just had to go and shove his big nose where people didn't need him, like trying to meet the new kid. The slinthead had approached them with this pompous smirk on his face saying, "Well, if it isn't the Greenie? My name's Gally, but you can call me Captain Gally."

Ben had laughed, this annoying nasally laugh, and nodded in agreement.

Unsurprisingly, keeping up with the stereotypical teenage guy role Minho had placed him under, Thomas had scoffed and said, "Yeah, as soon as you call me King Thomas."

For whatever reason, Gally and Ben had taken his (rather lame) comeback way too seriously.

And then they began to argue.

Minho sighed, wondering what the guys' problem was and why -

"Minho!"

Minho jerked himself upwards, tearing his eyes from the spot in the air he had been staring at, and shot his gaze to his livid math teacher.

"Pay attention," Janson growled, his beady eyes narrowing.

"Sorry," Minho muttered, not very convincingly.

He went back to taking "notes" while Janson prowled around the room like a rat, his ugly little black eyes sweeping over the room while he preached about the formula they were learning. Minho sighed under his breath, doodling a small stick figure Janson falling off of the page into a pit of fire.

It gave him a sick sense of pleasure, watching the stick figure fall into the flames.

When class finally ended, Minho threw himself out of the seat towards the back of the room to grab Newt and head off to Science. However, when he approached the back of the room, he saw Newt passed out in his seat, his pale blonde hair lying like a halo around his head and arms.

Chuckling, Minho yanked Newt's backpack up, pulling the taller guy up with him. Said guy yelped and jerked forward, putting Minho in a headlock before he was fully awake.

Minho widened his eyes as Newt let out a nervous laugh and let go. He rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Eh, sorry, I guess I fell asleep during the last few minutes of class."

"'s okay," Minho assured him, pulling Newt out of class as Janson glared at their retreat. "But are you okay, dude? You've been ridiculously tired lately and sorta distant. Alby and I are starting to get worried."

"I'm fine," Newt exclaimed, slightly too fast to be convincing. "I mean, I've just had a lot on my mind recently."

Minho nodded, though he was unconvinced. "You can talk to me and Alby if you need to. What's on your mind so much you've lost sleep over it?"

"Certain...people," Newt explained vaguely. "And I keep having nightmares. It's nothing to get bloody _worried_ about, but it's been annoying."

Minho turned to Newt as they arrived at the hallway where their science class was, stopping him in his tracks. "You are going to tell me about this later. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"No, it's oka - "

"Shush." Minho placed a hand over Newt's mouth with a somber smile. "Stop talking. You explain to me later."

Newt rolled his blue eyes, but nodded. "Nuh et oh uh mah mouh," he grumbled.

Minho removed his hand with a flourish and grinned widely. "Good that. Let's get to class now, before Mr. Stephen starts class without us."

The two took off walking down the hallway, Newt letting out a grudging smile. "The track thing is today, isn't it?" he asked.

Minho nearly choked from happiness as he exclaimed, "My GOD I forgot about that!"

His day was made again.

**~WICKED~**

Class with Alby and Chuck was something that Thomas could get used to. The two weren't exactly friends, but they had enough sarcasm and wit to keep a conversation going from sheer opinions.

Their fourth period class was sitting outside on a bunch of rocks that was positioned around a fire pit. Their teacher, a guy in his mid-forties with graying black hair was currently teaching them about the properties of life.

"Alby!" he suddenly shouted, startling Thomas. "What is this leaf made of?" he asked, holding out a green leaf.

Alby grinned and said, "Matter. All things are made of matter."

"Correct!" Mr. Stephen exclaimed. "All things are made of matter! However, what else does it take to make a leaf? Aris!"

"Water, a tree, sunlight," answered a tanned guy with black hair, shrugging his shoulders. "And maybe dirt for the tree?"

"Yes! But then what makes a tree? And sunlight?" Mr. Stephen grinned. "Chuck?"

"Bark, soil, water, bugs, stuff like that? And the sunlight is made by the sun?" Chuck replied.

"Correct again! But what are bugs made of? How do they become a bug?" Mr. Stephen asked. "Ian?"

A guy answered, "Bug guts? Uh, whatever it is that bugs eat? Like plants and stuff."

"Yes! But where do plants and stuff come from?"

The class was looking at their teacher like he was crazy, but something clicked to Thomas. He raised his hand. "Mr. Stephen?"

"Ah, yes, Thomas!" the teacher exclaimed. "Got something to add?"

"Everything is made from everything," Thomas said, slightly perturbed by the stares he was getting. "You and I can't exist without oxygen and oxygen comes from trees which comes from the soil which comes from deceased plants and animals which comes from everything they eat."

There was a moment of stillness until Mr. Stephen let out a blinding smile. "Brilliant, son. Yes, class! Everything is made from everything! In some strange or miniscule way, everything is affected by everything else."

Alby grinned at Thomas and Chuck slapped him on the back, though it felt more like a pat coming from the boy.

"Nice job," Chuck told him quietly, smiling.

Despite himself, usually not giving a crap about what adults thought and said about him, Thomas smiled back. "Thanks."

As soon as Mr. Stephen took out a match and a jar of lighter fluid and set them both in the fire pit, Thomas knew he was going to be okay in this school. But for some reason, he had an inkling of a feeling that something dramatic was about to happen.

And he was going to be caught in the middle of it.

**Chapter four! :D I'm getting the hang of writing these chapters so quickly. **

**Huge thanks to: **katie, Guest, Maze Runner Girl, chickeny,role, Guest, BillieLiliJem, Not a guest, Guest, **and **Absolutely Taylor **for the wonderful reviews! They make my day, seriously. I know a bunch of people read this and don't leave a review but please, could you? It literally makes me want to write more when I see reviews and suggestions and ideas from people, and all you have to do is type something like: **nice chapter, loved when _someone_ did _that_.

**PLEASE don't be shy when suggesting new plots or happenings in the story because right now it's very general. It gets more interesting, trust me. XD **

**With love! C:**

**~Dani :D**


	5. Tied

**Glade High**

_**Chapter Five**_

Minho sped down the hallway, walking as quickly as possible without it being considered a run. A ridiculous smile was lighting up his face while his back pack swung at his side.

Track was today.

Today.

_Today_.

Track was the only thing that kept Minho sane while he had been in his last school where he had been made fun of everyday.

_"Oh, look, it's the gay dude."_

_"I hear he's a foster kid. _So_ unbalanced."_

_"Freak."_

_"What's with his sense of style?"_

_"His voice is so _annoying_."_

Minho shook his head to rid himself of the familiar thoughts, though the anger was already rooted inside of him. He clenched his fists inside and out, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. Track had been his only source of release, the only time he could just let all of his pent up anger out by running. And jumping.

As his excitement peaked Minho flung his bookbag into the corner of the hallway and broke out in a sprint.

"CASTRO!" bellowed Coach Jorge as Minho dashed onto the track field. "You're almost late, hermano."

"Lo siento," Minho teased in a horribly fake Spanish accent. "I got out of class late."

Jorge grinned lopsidedly, his dark hair framing his handsome face. "It's all good, kid. Just get in line. It's not like you aren't already on the team."

Minho smiled and struggled to keep his happiness down. It would be mortifyingly embarrassing to accidentally throw himself at Coach Jorge in a hug. Nope. He was not having a repeat of the first time he was let on to the track team.

"Oi, slinthead!" shouted a familiar accented voice. Minho's head shot up and he saw Newt and Alby sitting on the benches next to the field.

"C'mon, bro, you got this!" Alby exclaimed, his voice pitching towards the middle.

Minho shot them a cheeky grin and thumbs up before jogging to the end of the line of students. About twenty five kids were on their team; not enough for regular competitions, but they had fun anyway.

Suddenly, his wandering eyes were distracted by a flag of light brown hair. _Oh god no..._

"'Sup?" asked Thomas Jones with a horribly infuriating smile on his face. "Thought I'd try out for track."

Anger boiled up in his stomach, making his hands shake and his face burn. Please. No. "You have got to be shucking me."

"Not if you begged on your knees, dude," Thomas replied, turning back towards the front of the line where their team-mates were beginning to run, one by one. "What have you got against me being on this team?"

Minho's eye twitched and he dropped his head for a moment, letting out a breath. "Nothing," he grated out through his teeth. "Absolutely nothing."

"If you're sure..." Thomas raised an eyebrow curiously before turning around to the rest of the team. He bent over to retie his shoelace, giving Minho a rather good view of his backside.

Fighting off a blush Minho looked over at Newt and Alby who were bickering good-naturedly. He let out a dramatic sight and turned back towards the front of the line.

**~WICKED~**

"TONIIIIIIGHT~ WE ARE YOOOOUUUUNG!" Alby and Newt sang as they sat on the benches, arms linked and bodies swaying to the off-beat tune of the song.

Minho glared up at them from his spot on the track, causing the two to explode into peals of laughter. He made a rather obscene gesture that Coach Jorge didn't manage to catch.

Chuckling, Alby looked at Newt and grinned. "Do you miss being out there?"

"Not really, to be honest," Newt replied with a shrug. "It was fun last year but I'm kind of over track."

"Oh really?" Alby smirked. "What are you into now?"

"Certain things... certain people." Newt winked.

Alby attempted to keep the blush off his face by yelling, "GO THOMAS, YOU CAN DO THIS!" The new kid was pacing cirlces around a group of other students, his arms above his head as he stretched.

"Thanks guys!" he called, grinning and pretending to wave to the "crowd".

"Look at Minho," Newt whispered, nudging Alby's arm and staring at their friend. "He looks pissed."

If looks could kill, Thomas would be dead. Minho was glaring at him with a snarl frozen on his face as though he had caught a whiff of something unpleasent. "Oh god, this isn't going to be good," Alby groaned. "He had that look on his face the first time that Brendan came to the school too."

"And we know how that turned out..." Newt shook his head. "Do you think Minho has a chance with Tommy?"

"Doubt it," Alby snorted. "Thomas looks about as bent as a ruler, but hey, you never know."

Newt smiled. "True. You never really do know. Of course, Brendan was slightly more obvious than Tommy. His voice for crying out loud!"

Alby chuckled and said, "I know. So what are you gonna be doing to keep your mind off the track thing?"

"Maybe some more baseball," Newt murmured. "It'll be nice to only have one sport to focus on this year."

"Try-outs are tomorrow, are they not?" Alby asked, his gaze sliding over Newt, who was staring at the students on the track.

"Yeah. But Coach says I've guarenteed my spot on the team regardless of whether or not I show up." Newt had the intense look on his face that Alby loved to see on him. His blonde hair swept just slightly in front of his face and his pale eyebrows creased over his sky blue eyes, both of which sparkled in reflection to the warm sun overhead.

"So I can assume you'll be busy after class tomorrow," Alby replied, grinning. "I know you wouldn't miss it for the world."

Newt grinned. "That is true."

There was a sudden sound of a claxon horn blaring and then the athletes took off around the track.

Alby wrenched his gaze away from Newt and jumped to his feet.

"C'MON MINHO!" they both shouted, stamping their feet into the bleachers and waving their arms.

"Quite running like a girl!" Alby yelled. "MOVE. FASTER."

Minho's leg muscles flexed as he sprinted, arms pumping at his sides. Newt watched, transfixed, and Alby noticed his face contort in a slight pain. _His leg must be bothering him again. _

"He's got it in the bag again," Alby muttered, sitting back down on the bleachers. "I don't know why the others even race against him."

"I know," Newt said, rolling his eyes. "It's like he doesn't even try, either."

Suddenly, there was a shout of surprise. The pair's eyes swiveled up to see an astonished Coach Jorge flapping his arms around in the air, black hair ruffling wildly. "God dammit - " the coach cursed in his Spanish accent before stopping himself. Alby's eyes widened as he took in the scene before them.

Thomas Jones was sprinting neck and neck with Minho, breathing smoothly, his gait easy as he went. Minho looked furious, his deep brown eyes trained solely on a spot in space in the air.

Alby and Newt paused to look at each other. "This is new," Newt exclaimed, raising an eyebrow. "Minho has got some bloody speed racer on his tail!"

"God, who would've thought," Alby said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't have pegged him for a runner."

The two teens raced along side each other, and Alby watched, captivated. Minho had an intense look of concentration he didn't see on him most of the time. Thomas had a grin stuck on his face like a grimace. Both were sweating as they turned another lap.

"GO MINHO!" Newt yelled, waving his arms. "C'MON TOMMY!"

Alby felt a shot of envy through his body at the nickname. "Yeah, go Minho!" he yelled for the sake of it.

With only a few meters left to go the two were pushing themselves harder than ever, panting and coughing. At the very final second Minho threw himself forward... and ended up tripping Thomas up. The two went down in a cloud of dust.

**~WICKED~**

Thomas hit the ground hard, his breath coming out in gasps. A dead wait barreled over him, flailing its arms and legs. The two seemed to be tangled, arms entwined and legs hooked around the knees. Huffing for breath, the two boys tumbled to a stop.

For a moment, Thomas sat, completely dazed and out of it. Then, his gaze refocused and he fixed his green eyes on the pair of dark brown ones above him.

He was pinned to the ground, sweating and red-faced, and Minho was on top of him in a straddle, legs over Thomas's midsection. Minho seemed slightly dazed as well, eyes catching the light of the dust around them. A blush inched its way across Thomas's face that he fought off valiantly, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea.

"Sorry," Minho snapped, getting off the ground hastily and brushing away the dirt. Then, he stopped and smirked at Thomas. "If you'd wanted me on top of you, all you had to do was ask."

Thomas growled quietly and got up, marching over to Minho. "Shut up, shank!"

"Make me, slint head," Minho purred back, his eyes angry slits.

The two glared at each other, and Thomas momentarily forgot that they had an audience.

"If you're done, hermanos," a tenor voice said from behind the boys.

Thomas stepped back awkwardly, Coach Jorge stepping up and waving a stop watch in his face. "You two tied. Exactly. And I've never seen anyone come even close to beating Minho's time."

The small audience of students had gone silent. Thomas glanced around uneasily, though he was proud of himself. "What? No one has ever beaten him?"

"Never," Coach Jorge said. "He wins all the competitions."

"So I'm the first ever to allow a match for you..." Thomas looked at Minho, who was bent over catching his breath in light intakes of air. He looked pissed.

"Yes, you're the first ever to almost beat me!" shouted Minho. "So you had better not get used to it, Greenie. You don't even come close to my skills."

Without another word, Minho stalked off across the field, back towards his friends Newt and Alby. The two had gotten off the bleachers and were walking towards the team, as though to find out what was going on.

Thomas just watched. Despite the congratulations and the compliments being aimed at him, he felt slightly empty.

**I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get this out! My laptop has been down for a few months, and I only just figured out how to edit these documents on the mobile version of this site. I am such a loser. Anyways, I'm ALSO sorry that this is such s short chapter. Ah well, at least i know how to write on here anyways.**

**Thank you for the lovely reviews! I would write them all out but that would take a painfully long time on my phone. :( Just know that I loved each and every one of them! Any more suggestions for this story? I'd only gotten a few! Really, I'm willing to write a lot. XD**

**Hopefully the next update will be sooner than this one. XD**

**Dani :)**


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